Live, Little Soldier
by HopelessDove
Summary: Story for Suicide Prevention Day / It didn't seem true, the voices would tell him it wasn't. But the voices weren't here right now, and it felt true. So he slowly nodded his head. And for the first time in a long time, he felt like something was going right.


Back again with a Suicide Prevention Day story, and I tried to write a somewhat acceptable story. It was difficult, today was a bit too good a day for me to be able to get into the proper mindset, but I did try. I love you, read the AN at the end if you can please!

Songs I listened to:

The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot by Brand New

Don't by Ed Sheeran

Swimming Pool by The Front Bottoms

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><p><em>What are you doing, looking around like a lost puppy? They don't like you. They don't want you. Why are you trying?<em>

He swallows thickly, looks down, and continues to pick at his food.

* * *

><p><em>Hideous. Not enough bones. Bones. Bones. Bones. Sticks and stones may break your bones, but my words will always break <em>_**you**__. _

He turns away from the image of a bloated stomach and chubby cheeks and rushes to the bathroom, shoving his fingers down his throat to shove everything he can out. He does not notice the way his bones jut out and that all he is now is a walking pile of skin and bones.

* * *

><p>He hasn't smiled in months, not honestly at least. It was just a defense mechanism now.<p>

_Smile. Smile, dead boy, smile! If they notice you aren't, they'll get worried and do something and get rid of me. And you don't want to get rid of me, do you?_

And he smiles up at them, his crooked grin just a tad too wide, because while he hates this voice in his head that is slowly driving him mad, he feels like it's the only thing being honest with him.

* * *

><p>It was a regular sight by the time they tried to step in. He'd wake up at six am, work out for an hour, go to breakfast and play with his food, train until lunch, play with his food, train until dinner, play with his food, skip the campfire, and win capture the flag when needed. Every day, he woke up his skin was paler, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent, his messy hair limp, his sea green eyes dead, and his smile made of plastic.<p>

"_Hey, Percy?" his cousin asks, sitting down next to him._

"_Yeah, Nico?" Percy grins, and a stab of hurt flashes through Nico because it's such a good fake and he wonders how it ever came to be that it ended up so believable._

"_Perce, we're worried about you…"_

"_Oh, I'm fine, Nico, you guys don't have to worry about me." The grin stretches slightly. _

"_But Perce, you haven't been talking to anybody. We know the whole Annabeth-Jason thing was hard-"_

"_I don't care about them, Nico. I'm fine. I appreciate the concern though. It's just I've been tired lately, I'll try and talk to you and the others more though, okay?"_

_He knows he shouldn't, but Nico agrees and leaves the son of the sea god in peace._

* * *

><p>And he did get better. He actually started to eat <em>(he spit the food into his napkin), <em>talk to others more _(not because he wanted to but because the voice told him to), _smile more _("More smiles means less interrogations," the voice advised solemnly), _and he was just Percy again.

_Fools, they are. Don't worry, this'll all be over soon._

* * *

><p>It seemed so sudden, but they should've expected it. It'd been months since he'd been himself. But he was still there. He was always a constant. If you needed a friend, he'd be there, even if you never really talked. He always tried to be the best person he could be. The perfect son, friend, lover, student, teacher, warrior, the list goes on and on.<p>

The signs were always there, and they tried, they really did. Just not hard enough..

When he thought nobody was looking, he was hunched over and small. Protecting himself from the whispers and taunts and jeers of those he once knew but are now long gone.

He was usually alone, distant, but when approached he would talk animatedly. The friends he once had only seemed to pity him now, and everybody knew not to mention the two blondes who took off to the other coast wrapped in each others arms. But when someone came, the mask came up, and he shot them the ghost of his crooked grin which was now just a tad too wide, and though it worried them at least he was smiling and talking again. At mealtimes, he never really ate. All he ever really did was pick at his food and glare at his plate. But every once in a while, he'd take a bite, and that's all they could ask before he would scream and take flight.

He wasn't getting better, but it looked like he was, so they convinced themselves he was. And then, it was almost too late.

He was talking and laughing with the friends he once had, it had been such a long time since they last heard that laugh and everybody just thought that this was it. _Finally. _He's honestly improving now.

And then he shot them a smile, a true crooked grin, let out his beautiful laugh, rolled his eyes into the back of his head, and collapsed to the floor.

_Yes, Dead Boy, yes! Join us, where you rightfully belong. Dead and gone, just a war torn hero nobody would miss. Yes, Percy, join us….join us…._

* * *

><p>"<em>My baby boy, oh, my baby boy. What happened to our son, Poseidon, what could've done this to him?"<em>

"_The war, Sally. Tartarus. He was but a child. They all were. But we made him more important. He was forced to grow up too fast, and now we all must suffer the consequences."_

"_My baby boy…oh Percy, I love you. Please."_

* * *

><p>He woke up, his vision bleary and the lights to bright. Huh, this wasn't what he expected. And where were the voices? They said they'd be here, to give him what he deserved.<p>

"Hello, Percy," a voice to his right called, startling him.

He turns to see a young man, about thirty years old, smiling at him. Not one of those big grins or a patronizing smile, just a small _understanding _smile.

"Hi…"

"My names Jacob. I'm twenty five years old, a son of Hermes, and I fought in a war too," the man explained.

"Hi, Jacob," Percy greeted awkwardly.

"Percy, you're nineteen years old, and you tried to kill yourself because you blame yourself. It's not your fault. And I know it's hard to believe, but I'm going to work with you to believe that. And I know you're going to have trouble because I still do sometimes, but it gets better. God, Percy, it gets better. You've fought two wars, think you can fight another."

Percy stared blankly at this stranger. It didn't seem true, the voices would tell him it wasn't. But the voices weren't here right now, and it felt true. So he slowly nodded his head. And for the first time in a long time, he felt like something was going right.

* * *

><p>Hello all! Suicide Prevention Day is here again, and I tried to write a story because, as you all know, I find depression and suicide a serious matter that should always be addressed. I just want to remind you guys that you are loved, you are needed, and it is worth fighting. If you don't think anybody believes that about you, then know at least I do. If you ever need to talk, my kik is nikid1233. I'm always here for you. I love you.<p> 


End file.
